


rage

by lavenderlotion



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Charles, Post X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Having access to Erik’s thoughts now, back in the safety of Charles’ home, felt like too little, too late.It all felt like too little, too late these days.
Relationships: Past-Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 65





	rage

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: _Friendship_

Charles didn’t react when Hank burst into his office in a flurry of wild limbs. The boy’s mind was moving rapidly, going far too quickly for Charles to bother sorting through any of his thoughts. His head was aching and he was feeling more tired than he’d ever felt before, even in the very height of his doctoral research when sleep had been a hot commodity. All he wanted was some quiet. All he ever wanted was some quiet, these days, but his mind had been so  _ open  _ since that wretched day that peace has been hard to come by. 

It wasn’t until Hank opened his mouth and sprouted the most ridiculous  _ horseshit  _ Charles had ever heard that he finally began paying attention.

“What did you just say?” Charles snapped, looking up through his overgrown and unruly bangs at the lad. 

Hank shifted his weight, something like trepidation on his face as he slowly repeated himself. “Erik’s here.”

All of Charles’ movements ground to a halt. Even his mind, which had been hazily wondering when he could next have a drink, halted its train of thought. His full attention zeroed in on the boy before him, which also meant that his telepathy, which had been quite sensitive the past months, zeroed in on him as well. It was nearly overwhelming, and Charles was deafened by the force of Hank’s thoughts before he was able to shield himself. 

_ Erik is back. Charles is so unwell. Maybe he’ll stop hiding away and finally start eating? But what if he gets worse? Oh, Alex is so worried. Alex is always so standoffish when I try to speak with him, I wonder what I ever did to upset him? Maybe he’s just upset about the Professor? Lord only knows that Sean is since he’s not even getting high anymore, oh... _

Charles pulled himself from Hank’s mind with a gasping breath, erecting heavy mental shields to keep himself separate from Hank’s never-ending whirlwind of thoughts. Hank looked apologetic, opening and closing his mouth but saying nothing at all. 

“What the hell does he want?” Charles demanded, resting two fingers against his temple in a desperate bid to focus against the near blinding pain that was echoing behind his eyes. His shields had still not recovered from the way Erik had dug a coin through his mind, and his head was a mess of crumpled stone that did little to protect him from the roaring thoughts of others. 

“I—Alex is keeping him in the foyer, but he didn’t seem to want to talk to us,” Hank told him, his fingers moving over his hands where they were folded together in front of his waist. Goodness, he was so nervous. 

“Alex is...” Charles sighed heavily, already imagining the destruction he was bound to find. Luckily he hadn’t heard any explosions yet, but Alex blasting Erik to pieces wouldn’t necessarily be too loud. Wasn’t that a thought... “Fine. Fine, let's go see what that bastard would like.”

Hank nodded, but he didn’t say anything. Charles wheeled himself around his desk and then nodded his head to Hank when the boy’s hands awkwardly raised to the height of his chair’s handles. He hadn’t been spending much time with the others since he got back from the hospital, so the boy’s nerves were a given even if they made Charles feel guilty, especially so after the way he’d snapped at him. 

He told himself that he was trying his best. Every morning that he woke up and had to live a life he had never imagined himself living, he was trying his best. Every time he had to get around using this damned  _ chair, _ he was trying his best. And his best...well, it didn’t feel like a lot, but it was all he had. Erik coming back—Charles forcefully pushed that thought away, not at all ready to deal with whatever that train of thought would bring. 

Maybe it made him weak, but he would gladly take the few minutes it took for Hank to wheel him from the back of the house to the foyer to pretend like this wasn’t happening. In fact, he used those precious few minutes to patch up a few of his mental walls, studiously ignoring the wide, gaping chasm that seemed to echo through his mind tirelessly even if it wasn’t truly there, and wondering, for the millionth time, if it would ever go away. 

Alex was in the lobby like Hank had said, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. Erik was standing before him, his atrocious helmet tucked under his arm like a spoil of war, taunting Charles by bringing it into his home. Erik was several inches taller than Alex, but there was a trepidation to his stance that Charles hadn’t seen often and was most likely caused by the sparks of energy jumping around Alex’s shoulders. 

“Alex,” Charles said softly, just loud enough for the boy to hear him. He didn’t turn, but the tension along his shoulders lessened and his power stopped sparking quite as erratically. Good, since as angry as Charles was, he didn’t feel like being blown up. 

_ I am so sorry, _ he promised, feeling the far too familiar bitter tang of abandonment echoing through Alex’s thoughts and knowing he was the cause,  _ I am trying, I promise, but I will do my best to be better. _

_ Don’t need you to be better, asshole. I just need you to be around, _ Alex pressed back, having always been quite adept at speaking with Charles mentally. Charles nodding, pressing his determination to do just that which had Alex finally stepping out of Erik’s path and moving to stand only a few feet to the side of the room, arms still crossed menacingly over his chest as he glared them down. 

It gave Charles his first, head-on look at Erik. The other man...well, he looked excellent. Just as handsome as he had been the last time Charles had seen him, staring down at him on the beach with his face distorted by the horrible lines of a helmet meant to keep him out and silence his powers. He could still remember the way  _ nothingness _ had echoed where Erik’s mind should have been and just how painfully that’d hurt. 

Having access to Erik’s thoughts now, back in the safety of Charles’ home, felt like too little, too late. 

It all felt like too little, too late these days. 

“C-Charles?” Erik asked him, though he didn’t follow it up with any sort of question or appropriate greeting so Charles didn’t say a single word. Erik’s eyes were scanning over his shortened frame in shock, but Charles carefully maintained the walls around his mind. He didn’t have it in him to hear Erik’s thoughts. He thought, in fact, that he would most likely crumble apart should he let himself even a  _ whisper _ of Erik’s mind for had badly he wanted to lose himself within the other man’s thoughts. 

Eventually, the silence had wrung on long enough for it to turn from awkward to  _ unbearably _ awkward, and Erik cleared his throat. “Hello.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked plainly, not in the mood for small talk and wanting, very much, to return to his office where he still had  _ piles _ of paperwork he’d planned on sorting out that day. 

“I heard you’re opening a school,” Erik told him, his voice just as self-assured as it’d always been but grating on Charles’ nerves in a way it hadn’t ever before. 

“And where did you hear this?” Charles asked, since as far as he knew, they didn’t run in the same circles and Charles hadn’t largely talked about it with anyone other than the three living with him. Of course, he’d heard that Erik was assembling something of a team and he knew about both the teleporter and Emma Frost who had worked with Shaw, so it was very likely he’d found out through them. 

“I have...friends.” Was what Erik went with, which caused Charles to hold in a snort at the ridiculousness of  _ Erik _ saying such a thing. The other man seemed to notice his misstep, as his mouth thinned out. Charles said nothing to comfort him and found the silence gratifying, in an odd way.

“Right. So what is it you’re doing here?” Charles asked him again, as Erik still had not cleared that up. 

He didn’t answer the question, despite how direct it had been, and instead asked, “I...what has happened to you, old friend?”

“Whatever do you mean, Erik?” he asked, stressing the other man’s name and not returning the familiar endearment. 

Hearing Erik call him anything like a friend made his throat burn, but he ignored the sensation and focused instead on Alex’s fiery thoughts and the worry emanating from Hank, who was still standing sturdily behind him.  _ These _ were his friends, the boys who stayed with him even after Charles had torn apart their lives and dragged them into a godforsaken war none of them were old enough for and all of them had been hurt by. 

It was easier to look at Erik and remember that he  _ hadn't _ stayed, when he focused on those who had. 

“The chair...” Erik trailed off, seeming more and more awkward when Charles did nothing but raise his brow at him. Erik was not his guest, and Charles was not welcoming him back with open arms. The man seemed to be realizing that, and by the growing confusion on his face, it definitely wasn’t the welcome that he had been expecting. 

Erik took a step forward and Charles was quick to snap, “Stop it,” with as much threat as he could put in his tired voice. Thankfully the man  _ did, _ and Charles took a deep breath that seemed far too big and too heavy for his very weak chest. “I won’t ask again, Erik: what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see a friend, and offer my assistance should it be needed,” Erik told him with what appeared to be a genuine smile.

He had no idea if he believed it. 

The worst part of it all was that Charles  _ could _ look into his mind and know whether or not he was being truthful. He could see exactly how Erik was feeling and if he  _ wasn’t— _ well, Charles could make him feel however he damn well wanted. But he didn’t have the energy, and not only because even the simplest of telepathic tricks had been tiring of late, but because he shouldn’t  _ have to. _

It should be easy to believe that Erik was being genuine, having shown up at his doorstep to offer his help as a friend. There shouldn’t even be a  _ doubt _ in his mind. But Charles, when he truly pondered it, realized he couldn’t believe Erik’s word. Not after what had happened. Not when Charles could hardly get out of bed without requiring assistance, or when he had to look up at Erik’s face from a height that only reminded him of everything he’d lost.

No. After what had been done, words weren’t enough. It wasn’t just that Erik had hurt him so mindlessly—though that was certainly part of it—but it was that Erik had  _ left. _ After all the nights they had lain together and talked of a future where mutants could be  _ free, _ of all the nights they had lain together and talked of a future where  _ they  _ could be free, Erik had still left him. 

So with his throat burning and his eyes stinging, Charles took a deep breath and wondered why he was letting Erik break his heart all over again.

“We are not  _ friends,  _ Erik. We never have been, in case you’ve forgotten all the times I had my cock up your ass before you decided to leave me, bloodied and broken by your own hand,” Charles’ voice cracked and he had to tightly pinch the bridge of his nose to keep himself from crying. He took a very deep breath before he said, “and yes, since you so badly want to know but don’t have the strength to ask:  _ I can’t walk.  _ I can’t walk now. I can’t walk in the future. In fact, I will never be able to walk again.” 

Charles took a deep breath, and he felt Hank’s hand on his shoulder and Alex’s angry swirl of thoughts from the other side of the room. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Erik. You were not invited, and you are not wanted.”

Erik opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a single word Alex was loudly clearing his throat. “You were asked to leave,” Alex told him, stepping into their path as light sparked high across his shoulders and Hank growled behind him, the noise fully Beast. 

Erik seemed to realize there was nothing else for him to say or do, because his face crumpled in a way that made Charles’ heart ache even more than it already was, and with nothing more than a nod of his head and a projected thought that Charles blocked using every bit of strength he had left within him, Erik turned and left. 

It was only once he could no longer hear the echo of Erik’s thoughts or the purr of his car’s engine that he finally allowed himself to cry. He took a shaking breath and let out a shuddering sob, and before his next, his  _ friends _ were at his side and for the first time, he allowed them to comfort him gratefully. 

**Author's Note:**

> i don't love this, so please be kind!  
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!  
> comments and kudos are much appreciated!


End file.
